


Dropping the Facade

by coruscantspark



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Adventuring!Essek, Alcohol, Essek Thelyss Needs a Hug, Essek Thelyss-centric, Essek has a familiar, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coruscantspark/pseuds/coruscantspark
Summary: Missing scenes from what Essek may be up to when the M9 reach back out. Also Essek has a familiar, this is very important.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	1. First Contact

**Author's Note:**

> All of this will be disproved and non canon compliant within a few weeks but for now, a girl can dream. 
> 
> Uraya is a really cool orc cleric of the Luxon and sort of the "Lead Medic" of this base camp. 
> 
> Marcel is Essek’s assistant/apprentice. They are nb and use both he/his and they/them pronouns. I've not written for a nb character before so please let me know if I've stepped out of line so I can make it right.

Essek dismisses the younger drow and drops the stack of new messages onto his desk. With a sigh, he stretches his neck in all directions and stands, continuing to stretch down his spine, wincing at the familiar twinge in the hips. 

_ Why does the likely place for magical artifact discovery have to be here in the godsforsaken cold? _

The chill had rushed into his office with the arrival and exit of his young assistant and the heating element in the center of the tent was struggling to keep up now. He limps towards the heater and basks in the heat with a small shiver and eyes the scrolls on his desk with disdain. He’d much rather be home, in the warmth of his laboratory on the receiving end of these missions rather than here as the searcher. He sighs and rotates to warm his backside and summons his familiar. The fluffy weight of his snowy white Persian cat is an immediate warmth to his arms as he snuggles him closer. The wind outside of his tent howls even louder for a bit and Essek smooshes his face into the cat’s fur.

“Ah, Bossk. Of all outcomes of that blasted misadventure, this one I didn’t see coming.”

Bossk merps and continues purring. 

_ Essek enters the throne room and bows deeply. _

_ “Rise Shadowhand, we have much to discuss about your future.” _

_ Essek keeps his face neutral as he rises and glances about the room. The lack of guards and other powerful mages keeps him from fearing the worst. He gathers his thoughts, bringing his hands together under his cloak, near his component pouch and inclines his head in a show of greater respect. _

_ “Your Majesty, I am but a humble servant of your will and wisdom. However best I can serve you and this great dynasty is where my talents shall be placed.” He glances up and sees her nod. _

_ “To be sure, but I am sure that your interests and ambitions lie far beyond the duties thrust upon you in the shadow of war. Though, the work you did was most appreciated and your work with the Mighty Nein was unparalleled.” _

_ Essek allows himself a small smile. “Working in conjunction with them was valuable experience gained, even in areas I wouldn’t have expected. I won’t pretend to have loved all the duties placed upon me during the conflict. If I may speak freely,” he looks up and waits for her confirmation. At her nod he continues, “I would love to never step foot in the Dungeon of Penance, or at the very least never perform those particular duties again. At the risk of speaking out of turn, I found such acts distasteful and discovered a personal boundary that was already crossed before I realized it existed.” _

_ He holds his breath, bracing for a reprimand, as silence drops around the throne room. He hears the Bright Queen shift in her throne.  _

_ “Shadowhand, your willingness to follow my commands is commendable, as is your courage in speaking your mind. I’d rather keep my subjects in places they’ll be of most use with the utmost conviction and fervor for their work. The horns of war call us to unfamiliar places, but I agree you are of better service to me elsewhere and that is why I have called you here.” _

_ Essek lets out the breath he was holding as subtly as he can.  _

_ “Your work alongside the Mighty Nein did, in fact, teach you much. Taught all of us much. Allowed us to keep our people safe, destroy corruption inside of our walls and remove a dangerous entity from Bazzoxan that would have demolished our outpost if released without our knowledge. The war may be over Shadowhand, but that does not mean the Empire and its Cerberus Assembly does not seek ways to destroy us. Do your best to remain in contact with the Mighty Nein and keep track of them in the interim as they are certainly working their…odd diplomacy with our Empire counterparts.” _

_ Essek nods. “They mentioned wishing to remove the rot from their homeland and change it for the better by doing so.” _

_ “Whether they are successful or not, I do not wish to be the last to know about it. Additionally, I am aware that your talents best lie in research and discovery. The Cerberus Assembly is growing more aggressive in their explorations of Eiselcross. Just as I wish to keep abreast of the goings-on inside the Empire, I do not want them discovering artifacts without us knowing. Their search for more power will send them down the same destructive path of the mages whose ruins they ransack. After watching your work in retrieving the beacons and overseeing the…chaos of an adventuring group, I’m sending you to Eislecross in charge of a few research and exploration teams. Officially, you will be checking in on our outreach teams at Vermus, observing weather patterns, studying the effects of magic permeating the landscape of Eislecross.” _

_ Essek barely contains his look of shock as the Bright Queen continues, “More importantly, you’ll be overseeing the exploratory teams searching the scattered ruins of Aeor for anything that could benefit your research or any research being done at the Conservatory and any artifacts that can be kept out of the hands of the Assembly. You will still be expected to maintain your current duties to the best of your abilities given the distance.” _

_ Essek manages a murmur of acceptance and appropriate thankfulness at the honor the Bright Queen believes she’s bestowed upon him and is dismissed soon after to begin his preparations. _

The tent has regained its previous warmth when Essek shakes himself loose from the memory. The stack of scrolls and messages still mock him from where they sit innocently on his desk .

He turns back around.

Shifting Bossk so he can cradle him in one arm and pet him with the other, he paces the room trying to stretch out the stiff hip. The kitty engine in his arms ramps up and a small smile plays at Essek’s mouth. He’d not seen the benefit of a familiar before meeting  _ him _ . The warmth of that small bengal cat, a willing recipient of pets from twitchy hands, a stress reliever and sounding board all in one. He’d received Bossk that night before he was set to depart for the frozen wilds of Eislecross. 

_ Essek gathers the last of his maps and books and tosses them all into the bag of holding he’d commissioned specifically for this trip. Sighing, he looks around the home he won’t be seeing for awhile after tomorrow morning and meticulously checks all the doors and windows. Pouring a large glass of a fancy liquor he’d been given by some nobleman to curry favor or some other exhausting social political machination he detests, he takes a sip and sighs again. However obnoxious the gifter, the alcohol was good. _

_ “This doesn’t really feel like a promotion.” he mumbles out loud to the silence of his darkened house. _

_ Scooping up the bag, he trudges up the stairs to his room extinguishing torches along the way with a wave of his hand. He sets the glass on his bedside table next to a glass sphere and carefully places the bag next to a sitting chair and methodically lays out his cold weather gear for the morrow. The other pieces are packed away already, but the most impressive ensemble was ready for the journey in the morning. _

_ Slipping out of his clothes and into a simple gown and robe, he settles into his last night of luxury in his own bed and takes a large sip before activating the sphere and concentrating. He’d taken to scrying on the Mighty Nein every night. He tells himself he’s simply doing his job of keeping tabs on them but his rebellious heart laughs at his pathetically thin excuses. _

_ He feels his consciousness lift and rush forward and he sees Fjord in the dark, a look of confusion on his face that is rapidly morphing into concern and panic. He watches as Fjord briefly looks at a figure out of sight, turns back around and starts running yelling for Jester and reaching out a hand and leaping out and over, is that lava? disappearing and then reappearing holding onto Jester? He is shouting and Jester is crying and they’re both holding onto something and then a foot connects out of nowhere and they are both falling and Essek’s heart drops until their descent slows and he sees them land on ground and not the possible lava he thought he’d seen before. His heart clenches at the broken look on Jester’s face as Fjord is steadying her and they both are staring up out of Essek’s sight. _

_ His vision returns to himself and Essek clutches the sphere cursing the limits of the magic within. His mind races at what they possibly could have been dealing with. The image of the normally stoic Fjord panicking and terrified has Essek’s own breathing increased and the brief snatches of the grief-stricken Jester have his heart in pieces. He gasps and swipes at his own eyes.  _

_ “What is happening? My friends, do you need help?” Essek whispers into the low light of his room. He gently places the scrying eye on the table and buries his head in his hands. Just last night, he’d watched Beau making drinks and planning a way to cure the Empire of itself with a very drunk Caleb.  _

_ Not knowing where he stands in their opinion of him, he swipes at his eyes again and pretends the only reason he’s not messaging them to offer his help was because he hadn’t prepared that spell for the day and not the fear of their rejection. He takes another sip of his drink and summons his spellbook. He flips through, bookmarking spells that may come in handy on the journey ahead, making mental notes of what to prepare in the morning. His fingers brush over the spell he had created alongside Caleb and Veth. They’d risen so high in each other’s regard only to fall so low. Swallowing past the ache in his throat, he flips the page to a spell he’d added at Caleb’s request, despite his own protests he’d never need or use it. Caleb had given him a knowing look and waited patiently until Essek had begrudgingly copied it over.  _

_ Find Familiar.  _

_ Later, he’ll blame it on the preemptive homesickness, the alcohol, the disturbing visions in the scrying eye, anything other than the mortifying reason of knowing the ache of bone deep loneliness for the first time these last few weeks. He tosses back the last of the alcohol and stumbles over to his desk to find the necessary material components. An hour later, with no specific animal in mind other than “soft” and “warm”, he finishes the casting of the spell and a loud mrrrrrp comes from the desk. His eyes widen in disbelief as the whitest, fluffiest, grumpiest-looking cat he’d ever seen in his life winds its way around his arm and sits on his hand, purring like one of Waccoh’s inventions. He tentatively reaches out his fingers and the cat sniffs once before butting his hand with its head. _

_ “Well, hello there.” Essek gets braver and scritches the cat’s head. “Do you have a name?”  _

_ The cat stands and flicks its tail in Essek’s face. “Oh it’s like that, is it? I think I may have something around here you might like.” He scoops the cat up and sets off for the kitchens searching for the tinned fish he’d grabbed in case a certain wizard and cat duo came over for an extended research session. After about 5 minutes of trying to figure out how to open it, he looks into the judgemental eyes of his new cat. “I’m smart, okay? I am the Shadowhand to the, oh nevermind, here you go, my lord.” He offers the can to the cat who sniffs at it and takes a delicate bite before ignoring the rest of it and head butting Essek again. Essek laughs a little and scritches its head.  _

_ “Do you like that? My Lord? Bossk?” The purring gets louder. “Very well. Bossk it is.” Essek picks Bossk up and cradles him in his arms and walks back to his room. Extinguishing the lights, he prepares to go into a trance, still worried about the Nein but knowing he can check in tomorrow calms his heart slightly. Bossk paces the bed before settling on Essek’s chest, tail in his face. “Oh no sir, that’s not going to fly, mister.” Essek scoots him onto the bed. Bossk mrrrrrps again and flicks his tail before walking down and curling around Essek’s feet. “Better.” _

_ Essek has the best trances he’s had in a very long time. _

Essek sighs as he forcibly pulls himself out of another memory and looks down at the cat in his arms.

“Bossk, I seem to be stuck in a state of nostalgia tonight.” Bossk just looks at him before climbing up his tunic and settling around Essek’s neck, purring closer to his ear. Essek laughs and abandons the warmth of the heater to move toward the desk hoping to catch up on some of the correspondence that had arrived from Rosohna. He jerks upright at a sudden voice in his head, sending Bossk flying with an offended squawk. 

“Hi! We're heading to Aeor. The Nonagon is here. Can you help us? We're looking for threshold crests. Do you have any knowledge? Huh?”

His heart leaps at hearing Jester’s voice and he can’t stop the broad smile that splits his face. Running over her words in his head he tries to piece together what she was asking for. 

He responds immediately, “Jester, it has been a bit. That was a lot. But Aeor, interesting. I'm at a Vermus outpost to its east.”

He scoops up a very grumpy Bossk and whispers apologies to him while waiting anxiously for another message. When a minute goes by without another voice he sits down again, a little disappointed, but pulls out the scrying eye he’d brought with him and hadn’t had a chance to use in a while. Bossk curls in his lap as Essek absently rolls it in his hands. 

“This is a dangerous land you know, Bossk,” he says to the purring fluff in his lap. “She’s probably out of spells for the day. I haven’t had to budget my spells so carefully in a very long time.” 

Concentrating on Jester, he feels his consciousness lifting before hitting a wall and the spell fading.

“Interesting.”

He hears her voice echoing in his head, and he replays it over and over. He spends the next hour replying to messages, planning the next day’s tasks all while wondering at the Nonagon she’d spoken of and coming up with more and more ridiculous scenarios for why they of all people would be heading for Aeor before yawning and stretching. 

He stands and Bossk jumps down and does a circuit of the room sniffing at the bottom of the tent. Essek follows him, setting out a silver wire and casting his nightly alarm silently thanking the redheaded wizard once more for insisting he know this spell as well. He falls into his bedroll fully clothed and pulls all of the blankets close. He lies still for a moment before awkwardly scooting himself, the blankets, and the bedroll under him closer to the heater in the center of the tent without getting out from under the warmth of the blankets. 

Bossk judges him silently from the entry to the tent before primly walking over and burrowing under the blankets and taking up residence at Essek’s feet. 

\------------------------------------------

The following morning, Essek braces the fluttering of parchment on his desk when the tent flap opens bringing in the cold, the wind, and his assistant, Marcel. Marcel is looking down and already starting to rattle off a list of things Essek had asked them to bring to his attention today.

Their lightly accented voice shakes with the slightest shiver as they hustle towards the heater. 

“So this morning we have all of yesterday's correspondence to send back with the falcons before the 8th hour if we want a response tomorrow, there is still no word from the party sent to the far eastern ruin and they are now 3 days past a check-in, you were going to make a decision of what to do about that today--” their voice trails off as they look up and take in the sight of Essek, hair messy, dressed warmly and sensibly - in place of his more distinguished mantle is a cape made out of all of his blankets, a spectral mage hand holding them together under his chin with only his face and hands poking out to continue working. “Sir, are you feeling alright?” 

Marcel has another shock when he watches his boss blush a bit and shake his head. 

“Marcel, I am fine. I just,” Essek sighs and drops his quill onto the desk and rests his head on his hand. “I woke up this morning and I was cold and tired and really wishing I was back home. So I decided that for today at least, I would try on a less...dignified presentation and stay warmer and more comfortable.”

Marcel snaps his mouth shut and sinks into a chair. “Perfectly alright, sir. I was afraid you’d caught a cold, that’s all.”

Essek shakes his head and pushes a cup and the still steaming teapot across the table. “Tell me what you think of that blend.” He points at the cup expectantly until Marcel takes it. “No, I’m just tired of trying so much and placing so much effort into something that truly doesn’t matter, not out here. The people we’re here with could care less what I look like and would rather I focus my energy on making sure the ridiculous creatures of this region don’t treat us as a mid-day meal.”

Marcel is once again staring. “Sir, did something happen last night? Is there anything I can do for you?” They choke on their tea when Essek laughs.

“Yes and no, Marcel. Yes and no. I heard from some old friends and remembered I prefer myself the way I am when they are around. The Bright Queen herself could walk into this tent and I  _ might _ take off one of my blankets. The tea? How is it?”

Marcel looks down at the cup and briefly wonders if they are still asleep or possibly been drugged. “It’s quite good, sir.” He clears his throat. “The correspondence from yesterday, is it ready to be sent back? The falcons are rested and ready to return.” They pause and hesitantly add, “If only they could take me back with them.”

Essek nods knowingly and gestures to a pile of envelopes on the corner of the desk. “Even for just one day, I’d do unspeakable things to block out the sound of that wind for just a few hours.” 

He seals the last envelope and places it atop the pile. “Unfortunately our queen needs us here. Responses are ready, you can take those when you leave. Send that last one with the fastest falcon, I’m afraid that Peiter’s ineptitude and ego is going to undo months of research if Waccoh doesn’t step in.”

Marcel winces and rolls his eyes. “Perhaps Professor Waccoh will make him so angry he’ll quit in a fit of rage.”

“If only we all could be so lucky.” Essek mutters staring down at the map he’d spread out on the table. “What else was on the docket this morning?”

“The research team sent out to the eastern ruins,” Marcel places his empty cup back on the desk.

“Ah yes, it’s been 3 days now and no word from them, yes?”

They are interrupted by shouts outside the tent.

They both scramble to the opening of the tent and peer into the early morning. 

“Oh you’ve got to be joking…” Marcel trails off in disbelief as one of the soldiers with them is tossed into the air and more shouts are heard as armored explorers run towards the monster disturbing the morning tranquility. 

Essek runs back into the tent and dismisses Bossk, scoops up everything important and destroyable into his bag of holding and tosses it into a trunk and sprints out the door to join Marcel who is already beginning to cast from where they stand partially hidden behind another tent. Running through the spells he has prepared for the day, Essek grins a little and understands why his friends keep such an active lifestyle. Practical application of spells is certainly more exciting than theory.

\------------------------------------------

Essek leans heavily on Marcel as the two stumble back into his tent barely propping each other up. They both collapse near the heater with a heavy sigh and groan of pain. Essek flops onto his back and immediately grunts in regret as he discovers another bruise. He flails a hand towards the pile of blankets he’d abandoned earlier in the effort to go help save the camp. He manages to hook a finger in one and weakly pulls it to himself, a second one sticking to it that he shoves at Marcel. They take it with a thankful nod and half wrap up in it.

“So, notes for the next encounter with a creature hell-bent on death and destruction,” Essek murmurs. “Stay farther back, and hide better.”

Marcel laughs and then groans and clutches at his ribs. “Well done with the gravity bit, we’d have not survived without that one.”

Essek shakes his head. That had been way too close for comfort. He was surrounded by skilled fighters and incredibly talented researchers but too many more attacks by a creature of that magnitude and Essek’s not sure his luck will hold. Marcel was a talented mage in training but they had many years of catching up to do before the two of them stood as equals. 

Essek lets his head fall back against the floor and makes a note to step up the intensity of his lessons with his assistant whenever time allows. His mind wanders to a group he’s witnessed briefly in action and wonders what the stakes of a battle at their side would be like. Even in his current state he can’t ignore the thrill that runs through him at the thought of witnessing first hand what they are truly capable of outside of pleasantries. 

They hadn’t messaged again this morning. Perhaps he could--no he’d not prepared that spell today. Stupid, stupid, Essek forces himself to sit up and then after a brief internal pep talk, to stand and shuffle over to the crate he’d stashed the bag of holding in. Reaching inside, he pulls out the stack of letters that still need to be sent back to Rosohna. He walks back over to Marcel and offers a hand up.

“Drop these off with the falconer on your way to medical. Get those ribs looked at and then send Uraya to me. We’ll regroup in a few hours.”

Essek clasps their shoulders for a moment.

“Good work out there. Your perseverance in your studies is apparent. Rest now, the lessons only get more strenuous here on in.”

Marcel nods but the pride in his face can’t be mistaken as he turns and limps out of the tent.

Essek carefully lowers himself into his chair and summons Bossk who immediately yowls in apparent alarm and headbutts Essek’s chest before settling in and kneading at Essek’s thigh.

“Do I look that terrible, mm cat?” Essek gingerly touches his face and winces. “I suppose I do look pretty bad. Getting hit with a concussive force is unpleasant as I’m sure you know.”

Laughing at Bossk’s glare, Essek starts up the methodical but annoying task of resetting his desk, placing everything back where it was before he’d shoved it all away to keep it safe.

“You know Bossk, the skill of tearing down and resetting my workspace wasn’t a skill I went into this year thinking I would have attained mastery of and yet here we are.”

Bossk mrrrrps and Essek pulls out a scrap parchment and plots out a few different message options, looking up when his tent opens and Uraya blusters in. The orc shivers and steps forward, tugging off their hat and mittens.

“Marcel said you requested me, sir?”

Essek gestures towards the chair by the heater and Uraya sits thankfully extending his hands and rubbing the circulation back in them.

“Did they get their ribs looked at?” Essek asks, scratching out a line on his parchment and looking up at him intensely. 

Uraya nods vigorously, “Yes sir, got ‘em all taken care off and sent off to their tent with orders to take it easy until at least after lunch.”

Essek nods and squints at his parchment and circles something. He looks up again when Uraya continues, “We’ve also doubled our scouts and patrols as much as we could among the least injured to keep an eye out. You being tapped on spells so early in the day makes the folks a little twitchy.” 

Essek smiles a bit. “I still have enough to put up a fight and I can recover a few more if I take a rest. Which I will in a bit. The reason I called you here is that I need to send a message to another group and I wasn’t able to prepare Sending today. Do you have that available to you and do you have capacity to send a single message?”

Uraya’s head is tilted in confusion. “I do have that prepared today,” he says slowly. “Are they not within range of the falcons?” 

Essek shakes his head. “They wouldn’t be looking for a falcon and are out in the middle of nowhere, we’d lose a falcon trying to get a message to them that way.”

Uraya studies him for a moment. “Marcel mentioned - nevermind. I can send a message for you. Who am I sending to and what would you like me to say?”

Essek creates a projection of Jester’s face and hands the scribbled over parchment. 

“Her name is Jester and she is part of the Mighty Nein.”

Uraya’s eyes widen. “I’m going to be messaging the Mighty Nein?”

“Yes, they are associates of mine.”

Uraya looks down at the paper in his hands and over at the image floating in Essek’s hand. As he prepares to cast he mumbles under his breath, “Life sure got more interesting with you in it, Mr. Theylss, that’s for sure.”

Essek scritches Bossk and smiles.

Uraya clears his throat. “Here goes nothing.” 

He finishes casting the spell. “Associate of Essek, Uraya, here, sending word to keep Essek updated of your estimated arrival. Should you need emergency aid, reach out. Be careful.”

The voice responds to him in a disjointed manner that he relays to Essek. 

“They’re two days away they think. They like you a lot and miss you?” His eyes widen even more as he sees the broad grin on his boss’ face and the flush darkening his cheeks. Ignoring that he asks, “Are we to be expecting company, boss?”

“Quite possibly, I’ll be sure to keep abreast of their timeline and give everyone notice before they arrive. Not that you could miss them, they make a rather colorful appearance. That was all I needed Uraya, thank you. Please keep me informed of Marcel's condition and if any of the others' conditions worsen.”

Uraya recognizes the dismissal and starts tugging on his hat and mittens and scooting towards the exit.

“I’ll keep you updated. I’ll let the crew know not to disturb you so you can get your rest.” He pauses. “That means you’ll actually need to rest, sir.”

Essek waves him off, “I will in just a moment.”

Uraya frowns but nods and slips out of the tent.

\------------------------------------------

Much later that evening, he and Marcel are studying the map he’s now pinned to the tent wall.

“No, I agree with you, there should have been a check in at some point now. And we sent them here?” He points at a mountain range on the map. 

“Yes and we were getting a check in from the group at least every two days. Their last known location was here.” Marcel points just slightly to the west. Using a minor illusion, he places three concentric circles around that point. “This is as far they could have gotten in any direction each day.”

Essek nods. “Given the trouble we’ve had recently, oh remind me tomorrow to look at possibly shifting our camp, given our recent issues from a relatively protected vantage point, it’s not inconceivable that they wouldn’t be able to send for 3 days. There is also the probability that they’ve succumbed to the environment, the monsters that live here, or unsavory treasure hunters. This whole place is a dangerous mission that we might not come back from.” 

Marcel stifles a yawn and nods.

“Get some sleep, Marcel. We’ve had quite the day.” Essek claps them on the back, pushing them towards the door. “Hopefully tomorrow will be less eventful.”

Marcel waves and slips out of the tent. Essek goes to sit in his chair and sees Bossk curled up in it. He smiles, picks the cat up and sits. Absentmindedly petting the cat while staring at the map, he tries to think of what the next move should be. He feels in his bones that something has gone wrong with that team. 

“Is it foolish to send more out there?” 

Bossk mrrrrps and purrs louder.

A tired sounding Jester interrupts his thoughts, “We should hit A2 tomorrow. There's a group...of villains on the way. We have to stop them, Essek. They plan to release something terrible.”

Essek’s heart pounds as he takes in that message and the implications of her scared voice. To have shaken her so badly...he takes a deep breath and responds, “Well, you portend something...frightful. I have my responsibilities, but... if I can be of aid, please let me know. I trust your guts."

“Ah Bossk, the last time something was released and they were involved, things got very messy and incredibly dangerous.” 

A moment passes. “What is an A2?”

He pulls out the scrying eye and tries to scry on Fjord this time, but hits the same wall as before and the spell fails. 

“Either they all have incredibly powerful means of preventing divination or theyre on another plane-” he stops himself realizing. He scoops up the cat and holds him up in front of him laughing a little. Bossk’s unamused face stares back. “He’s done it! They’re on another plane of existence because he’s got the mansion!”

An emotion he refuses to define tightens his throat as he cradles Bossk close and stares unseeingly at the heating element. He is powerful, yes. But they could have easily obliterated him with minimal effort. They’d looked at him, with all of his power and secrets and ego and lies and still decided he was going to be their friend. 

“And what did I give them in return, eh Bossk?”

He wants to plead with the night that he’s changing, trying. That he’s so lost. Never in his life has he been so uncertain. He wants to rage that this is an inopportune time to grow a conscience. And yet, today had been freeing. 

His whisper fills the tent. “One day, I’ll be deserving of your attention and affection. Until then, please keep me by your side so I can keep you all safe.”

He piles his bedroll and blankets as close to the heat as he can and beds down for the night. The comforting drone of Bossk’s purring lulls him into a trance even as his mind races with the thought of seeing them all so much sooner than he’d imagined.


	2. Second Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mighty Nein come to visit. Conversations are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this got long. It was only supposed to be Essek talking with Jester, but apparently he likes to have emotionally charged conversations with multiple people first, or something like that. I don't even pretend to be in control of this anymore.

A few days have passed since Essek last spoke to the Mighty Nein, it’s a brisk afternoon and Marcel and Essek are braced against the cold studying the instruments in their hands. A large supply drop had come in early that morning and they’d spent the majority of the day in inventory with Uraya and Captain Jost. Now they have the chance to  play field test out some of the instruments that had finished development in the Conservatory and been delivered to them.

“I am amazed at it’s sensitivity,” Marcel is saying while Essek is fiddling with the instrument in his hands. 

Marcel shields their eyes, squinting up at the horizon. “Although, in this climate, having accurate temperature and wind speed is more depressing than helpful.”

He looks over to Essek whose face is partially obscured by a hood and grins, “At a certain point, cold is just cold.”

Essek grins and activates his own device. “You are not wrong. I did not know cold before I got here. Oh look at that.”

The device in his hands glows faintly, then brighter when he tugs off a glove with his teeth and points the device at the ring on his index finger.

“Waccoh did it, she actually did it!” Essek shoves his hand back into the gloves and looks back to Marcel. “It’s a detect magic spell, but contained inside of this device. See,” he points to the glyphs on the top of the instrument. “The abjuration glyph lit up when I pointed it at my ring!”

The two wizards are buffeted by a particularly strong wind gust that knocks them a few steps. 

“Well that will certainly cut down on spell usage,” Marcel gasps when they catch their breath. 

“Shadowhand!” 

The two turn and see Uraya and Captain Jost trudging through the snow to them.

Jost grunts in a deep drawl, “Uraya here says we may be receiving company here soon?”

Essek tries to conceal the immediate worry that crosses his face and deactivates the device, shoving it into the pocket of his cloak.

“Yes, we were supposed to have been in contact to keep up on their arrival but I haven’t heard from them.”

Uraya and Jost share a look. 

“Seems to be a lot of that going around these days,” Uraya says.

Essek rubs his forehead and sighs, “This land is too unpredictable and dangerous and wild.”

Dropping his hand, he crosses his arms under his cloak and tries to stomp feeling back into his feet. “I don’t know if it’s the bizarre magic causing interference, they’ve had to fight for their very survival and are out of spells, captured and hurt, or just simply dead.”

The pang in his chest at the thought of them dead and never able to be found is sharp and he turns to scan the horizon. It was a surprisingly clear day and he could see for what felt like an eternity in each direction. He huffs a small laugh, “Or they could have just forgotten that they were supposed to check in and will show up unannounced.”

He turns back around at Jost’s voice, “How many are there? We’ll need to make sure we have enough provisions and space for them.”

“There’s seven, possibly more if they have -”

He’s cut off by Jost and Uraya shouting a warning and pointing at the sky. They both pull out crossbows and Jost whistles a warning to the camp while Essek and Marcel both spin around to see what they’re aiming at. Three giant eagles are speeding through the sky heading straight for the camp. More fighters pour out of tents, readying their weapons and taking positions. 

Jost is shouting to hold and not provoke. Essek begins to ready a spell that will hopefully target all three when he gets a clearer look at the eagles and his heart skips a beat. 

He puts a staying hand on Jost’s arm, “Wait, those aren’t eagles!”

“Shadowhand, wait!”

Essek holds up a hand and jogs out from the camp and pulls his hood down waving up at the sky. The eagles have closed the distance and he can see the icicle covered faces of Fjord, Veth, Beau and Caduceus being carried by three strangely colored birds. The orange colored eagle squawks loudly and lets the firbolg and hafling down before doing a close flyby near Essek, buffeting him with the wind from its wings before landing and cocking its head to one side and fluffing up its feathers. The black and white one places a stranger in a chair down on the ground before landing a little uncertainly and looking around. Beau jumps off the back of the blue one and lands neatly in the snow. The blue eagle drops Fjord in a snowbank before doing a loop-de-loop and transforming into a familiar blue tiefling. 

A tiefling that is now sprinting full-tilt at him.

He barely has time to prepare as he is tackled to the ground in a hug and a hears Jester’s exuberant, “We missed you! How are you? What are you doing up here?”

Essek just laughs out loud and hugs her back. He lets her pull him back upright and feels his heart slide into place watching Yasha stretch and then help Caduceus knock icicles out of his fur, Fjord get pulled of the snowbank with the help of the orange eagle who then whacks him around with its wings, knocking the snow out of his hair, Veth yelling at the eagle to be careful and not bruise the frail paladin, Fjord kicking snow vaguely in Veth’s direction, flushed from the cold and grinning. Suddenly Beau is beside him, punching him in the arm to say hello and eyeing the heavily armed camp behind him. 

“Should...we be concerned about that?” she points.

_ The camp behind him! _

He spins around and sees the unshakable Jost and Uraya gaping at the sight before them. Marcel looks like they’ve just solved a puzzle. Essek clears his throat and steps to the side, gesturing around.

“The Mighty Nein have arrived,” he announces loudly to the shocked audience. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Jester waving excitedly and Beau waving a little more sedately. 

“Right then,” Jost shakes himself out of his shocked stupor and looks around. “Back to yer posts now.”

As people slowly resume their previous activities, he and Uraya tuck their crossbows on their backs and begin to walk a bit closer to the chaos on the field, Marcel following close behind. Essek turns to the tiefling that still has a hold of his arm and is smiling brightly at him and does a double take. 

She looks different. 

He looks over at Beau who is now trying to convince the eagle to become a human again and is getting pecked in the head for her trouble. Beau hadn’t looked any different. His eyes go back to Jester’s face and there just behind the smile is the fear and sadness he’d heard a few nights ago, a new hardness to her features, a lengthening of her horns. His mind races with questions he can’t ask of her right now. Instead he cups her face with his gloved hands and looks her directly in the eye trying to communicate his concern and understanding with just a look. Her smile and eyes drop for a moment and she brings her hands to his and leans into it for a moment. Heart breaking for whatever story she’ll eventually need to tell, he gently tugs her closer, initiating a hug for the first time. They stand for a moment before he feels another set of arms wrap around them and feels more than he hears the rumble of Caduceus gathering them closer.

“Yeah, this is good.” His simple statement soothes the melancholy tension and they all separate in time to watch Eagle-Caleb poof back into human Caleb and look over to make eye contact with Essek across the snowy field, a connection that holds for a heartbeat and then two and only breaks at the screeching from behind them, followed by deep guffaws as the snow fight between Fjord and Veth has escalated and Fjord is dancing around from the chill of snow dripping into his armor and loudly threatening to dump Veth into a snowbank and rushing at her and her dodging behind a laughing Yasha and the stranger, screeching insults at Fjord. 

Jost, Uraya, and Marcel have reached them at this point and are surveying the chaos. 

Jost grunts, “This is the Mighty Nein?”

Essek nods.

“Heroes of the Dynasty?”

Essek nods.

“And you were their liaison during the war?”

Essek nods.

“No wonder nothing around here flaps ya.”

Caduceus starts laughing loudly.

Jester sticks her hand out, “Hi! I’m Jester!”

Uraya reaches out and shakes her hand. “Uraya, good to meet you in person, Miss Jester.”

Seeing the rest of the Nein gathering, Essek gestures to the captain and says, “This is Captain Jost, without whom we would be frozen additions to this barren wasteland.” Jost nods and Jester curtsies. Essek swears he sees a ghost of a smile lifting the corners of the grumpy man’s mouth. Marcel steps forward and bows. “And this is my assistance and apprentice Marcel, without whom I would forget where my head was most days.”

There’s another cacophony of sound behind him that vaguely resembles different methods of greetings. 

“This is Dagon,” Yasha says, gesturing at the dwarven stranger. Dagon grunts in their general direction, looking a little uncomfortable. “He’s our guide.”

Still looking a little mystified, Uraya and Jost share a look before Uraya says, “Well there’s eight of you, I’ll let Cook know and we’ll scrounge for some rations for everyone.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Caleb's accented voice falls over Essek like a warm blanket and he closes his eyes for a moment. “We have our own supplies. No need for us to take yours.” 

“Very well then. We’ll leave you be then, come and get us if you need anything, Shadowhand.”

Essek nods and Uraya and Jost start trekking back into the main camp. Marcel hesitates with an awkward look on their face. Essek pulls out the detection device from his pocket and hands it to them. “Marcel, please stow this and the weather one in my tent and make sure the heating is still working. We’ll catch up. I’ll let you know if I need you later. Go warm up.” 

Marcel nods and bows to the group before hustling back into the camp. Essek turns to the group and takes a deep breath and shoves his arms back under his cloak.

“Welcome. I’m not going to lie, I am incredibly glad you’re here.”

Beau looks at him sharply, “Where is ‘here’, and why are you here?”

“Beauregard,” Caleb’s voice is soft. “Maybe not here.”

“Hey, if this is a banishment or something, I don’t want to cause an international incident by being here!”

Essek shakes his head, “It’s fine. I’m-” He pauses and looks her in the eye. “I’m not here being punished. In fact, the Bright Queen thought that my work with you all was so valuable that I was promoted.”

He laughs and looks down at his feet. “I’ll be honest, most days it doesn’t feel like a promotion. I’m doing twice the work, and slower, and most of my day is spent keeping myself and my crew alive. I barely have time to trance, let alone continue researching anything I wish to be looking into that you were so concerned about before you knew how despicable I was. Even if I did have time, there’s no privacy.” 

He waves a hand at the gathering of tents and looks at each of them, now that the words are out of his mouth, there’s no stopping them. “There’s no way to guarantee the safety of my crew. I’m magically spent by the end of the day. Everyday is a struggle to stay alive, stay warm, stay moving. Any moment of quiet is spent responding to the research projects I’m supposed to also be overseeing at the Conservatory trying to keep my researchers there from blowing themselves across timelines via falcon letters, praying my guidance gets there in time.” 

He runs his hands through his shaggy hair and holding his head in his hands, eyes downcast he quietly continues, “And in those moments when the responsibility fades and my thoughts are my own again, my thoughts are filled with you and whether you are all safe. I admit freely to having scryed on you as often as I can. I told myself it was at my queen’s behest but I was so worried that my actions would have consequences on you and I needed to know that your lives weren’t at risk because of my own hubris. Every day before I got here, I left a single teleport available on the chance I needed to place myself in front of you to prevent my punishment becoming yours. When my scrys started failing, I nearly abandoned my post to come looking for you.”

Quickly stopping the tears before they freeze to his face, he smiles at them and looks to Jester. “When you messaged me, I could barely contain my joy. I couldn’t help but look at the act I was still trying to put on and laugh at myself because it’s all so ridiculous. I spent the next day wrapped in blankets because these people could care less what I look or dress or sound or act like, just as long as I fight alongside them and eventually bring them home safely. Although I do think I gave poor Marcel a fright. Like I said before, you all were not part of the plan but I can’t help but think that a high power took one look at my foolishness and decided to take pity on me. Because I prefer myself when I’m with you. When I get home, if I get home, I have plans for, well, nothing I do will ever atone, but to set certain things right. I may need your help to pull it off.”

He laughs again awkwardly as he trails off. The Mighty Nein stare at him in shocked silence. Dagon looks between the group and the drow he just met and puts his hands up. 

“I feel like, maybe I shouldn’t be hearing this, seems a bit personal. Whatever you did son, after a speech like that, I’d forgive ya. Either way, is there somewhere I can go and get warmed up and not be eavesdropping on your business.”

Essek sniffs and laughs, “Yes of course, my apologies, uh this way.” He doesn’t make eye contact with the rest and gestures for them to follow. Jester doesn’t let go of his hand and tugs him back. 

“What you did, wasn’t good. In fact, the consequences of what you did will be a scar on many generations of people in both nations,” Beau starts. Essek nods not looking up at them.

“But you alone didn’t start this. It could have easily been someone on the Empire’s side that tipped that scale a little too far and ignited the flames. Like we said before, we’ve done some sketchy things and sketchy deals, and are currently in the process of doing sketchy things that if we don’t properly balance every bit of-the fallout could mean the end of this age in history. So. I don’t want to forgive you. I don’t want to trust you. But we don’t really have a choice right now. Sometimes sketchy is the only way to get anything done and I’m not so hypocritical to pretend I’ve never done anything wrong that could have potentially started a war.” She shrugs. “And I don’t have to like you or trust you all that much to use you to stop what we’re up against.” 

She twirls her new staff around and points it at him. “But. One move in the wrong direction, Thelyss.”

“Understood.” With his free hand, he traces a glyph on the staff. “Fascinating new device. Suits you.”

“Thanks.”

Jester squeezes his hand, “You ultimately realized what you did was the wrong decision and helped us fix it. Now we need you to help us stop something much worse, so you can continue fixing it.”

Essek looks around and sees the understanding in everyone’s eyes mixed with an uneasy fear and nods. 

From a distance, Dagon hollers, “Do I just pick a tent? Or you lollygaggers gonna catch up anytime?”

Essek straightens up and drops Jester’s hand, rushing through the snow. “Sorry about that. Please, this way.”

He hears murmuring behind him and the crunch of footsteps following as they make their way to his tent. He pushes open the flap and winces. “Uh, welcome. It may be a little crowded in here, my apologies. We aren’t exactly outfitted for guests here.”

Jester bounces in and begins to inspect every inch of the place, “That’s okay Essek, it just means we all get to  _ schnuggle _ to stay warm.” She winks as she passes him, bumping him closer to the wizard that just ducked into the tent. Essek catches himself on Caleb’s shoulder and flushes, tripping backwards with an apology. He backpedals all the way to his desk, trying to put some distance between him and the rest of the group shuffling their way into his, spacious for one person, crowded for multiple people, tent. 

Jester continues bumping her way through people and sees the map he still has pinned one of the walls. There are marks where he’s sent expeditions to, places there may be places to send people too, places marked to not go to based on advice from guides. She taps Fjord and points at the map. He squeezes in beside her and squints, pulls out their map and Essek can see some similarities between the two maps. They share a look and catch him craning his neck to see around Caduceus.

“Essek, did you ever see our map when you scryed on us?” Jester calls out.

Essek shakes his head. “I was just as surprised to find out you were up here as you were me. The last time I successfully scryed on you all, you were sitting in a room that I assume is yours, Jester, based on the artwork on the walls. Then things got a bit hectic around here for a few weeks and the next time I tried it failed as it has every night since. Why?”

“You have a few markings on your map that are supposed to be secret and only on our map.”

Essek stands up straighter and scrambles over the desk and slips around Caduceus to look. 

“Which ones?” His eyes were already scanning the two maps. He taps A5. “I sent a team here, they’ve not checked in for 5 days now.”

There's a collective  _ Oh _ from the entire group and his heart sinks. 

Beau climbs over Caduceus and traces her finger to where they had started their journey.

“We started over here, and went straight to here,” pointing at A5. “When we got there, there was a group of drow and others in Dynasty-style clothing that had been dead for a few days.”

Essek closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. When he speaks, his voice is tight, “It’s as Marcel and I had feared then. And yet I’d still hoped…” His voice trails off.

Beau puts a hand on his shoulder. “How’d you know to send them there? That’s so far away from here and the location itself was really easy to miss if you weren’t specifically looking for it.”

Essek shuffles around to get back to his desk and pulls out a stack of parchment and spreads it out on his desk. “Marcel and I had been working on a theory to try and track the specific pattern of Aeor’s movements based on rumor and folklore. From there and using the main crash site, we attempted to mark out likely places where there may have been crash debris or a pattern of the city’s trajectory. We were able to find some rubble and ruin on our side of the main crash site that was close enough to our predictions that we were able to fine tune the algorithm and map out other possibilities. Unfortunately the majority is so far away from here that we had to choose well for our first extended expedition and the volunteers decided, based on our theory, to head there because if we were wrong, then there were other potential places close enough nearby that the entire trip wouldn't be a bust.”

Caleb has wound his way around and is peering over Essek’s shoulder and Beau is staring from his other shoulder.

Eyes not leaving the parchment, Caleb absently murmurs, “You were correct, there was rubble there. And a threshold crest. And your dead compatriots, and our once-dead friend walking around with their murderers. And that is why we are here.”

Essek looks over at Caleb’s profile while the wizard continues scanning over the calculations. 

Yasha speaks up from the corner she’s wedged herself into, bent around a trunk.

“Caleb, do you think you could put up the thing in here?” She pats a hunched-over Caduceus on the back and shifts a little to give him room, hitting her head on a support beam in the process.

“Mmm? Oh uh,” his eyes dart to Essek who is standing much closer than he remembers and his face heats. “One moment please, I need to make sure there’s room for all of us.” 

Essek sees different pairs of the Mighty Nein share a look as Caleb pulls out a wand and stained glass and begins casting. Essek leans forward and watches trying to guess what he’s doing when a shimmering door emerges from the components on the floor and he feels undeserved pride flutter in his chest. 

Caleb waves for everyone to go inside and turns to Essek. 

“How are you, truly?” he asks, standing in the doorway.

Essek leans against his desk, somehow knowing that this conversation was going to happen sooner rather than later. “I honestly do not know, Caleb.”

Caleb just looks at him. 

“I am off kilter most of the time. I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a goal. I don’t know why I’m here. I used to think in such long and lofty plans and now I’m taking it hour by hour. One of these days my luck is going to run out and I’ll lose someone.” He sinks into a chair, head in his hands. “I did, actually. Thank you for bringing answers for their families. I am more uncomfortable every day than I’ve ever been.” 

Essek lets his hands drop and looks up at Caleb, who is still looking at him passively. “But I’ve never felt more alive. I nearly lost Marcel the other day, but they’ve grown in strength by leaps and bounds since coming here. Theories of magic I’d only read about or experience in controlled environments suddenly make sense in the heat of action!” 

Essek pushes his hair back and slouches in his chair. “Say something. Please.” 

Caleb’s head tilts and he finally sighs and looks down at his hands and asks the question that has haunted him for weeks. “Why did you feel relief about framing the Taskhand?” 

Essek inhales sharply and his eyes harden and he bites out. “Because he had committed other crimes. Crimes I couldn’t have him brought to justice for because I had no willing witnesses or viable proof other than his egotistical taunting when confronted. Soon after I confronted him, my brother was transferred to Bazzoxan. I-” his fingers twitch and he balls his hands into a fist. “I had to deliver his assignment myself.  _ He _ made sure of that,” Essek mutters.

Caleb’s eyes soften and he puts a hand over Essek’s trembling fist. “Your brother? You never mentioned a brother.”

Essek’s mouth quirks a wry smile. “Force of habit. Despite our competition as youths, I still wish to protect him. My work is occasionally dangerous, especially as of late; I didn’t want his life threatened by my own stupidity or work.”

His eyes drop to their joined hands. “I...am also a selfish man, Caleb. Verin is a very likable person to be around. He never wants for company and you are all my friends first. The thought of sharing is-” He trails off. “Well. It wouldn’t be the first time people preferred his company over mine. Especially after-” He sighs.

“Especially after I’ve given you no reason to believe a word I say anymore.” 

Caleb’s voice is infinitely soft as he pulls Essek up to stand with him. “I believe you, Essek.”

Essek flinches. “Do you?”

Caleb hunches down to meet Essek’s eyes. “Yes. I am hurt, of course. But try as I might, I can’t not believe you. I may not trust you yet, but I do believe you. A singular misstep that spiraled out of your control isn’t going to permanently destroy our friendship. I am more afraid of what might happen if you and I misstep together. I am not too humble to pretend that we couldn’t do terrible things if left unchecked.”

Essek sees the fire in Caleb’s soul, burning in his eyes. Feels drawn to that flame, knows that they could burn the world asunder if they so wished, subdue it, mold it into their own vision. The heat of his gaze makes him dizzy and he looks away.

“I can’t let you undo everything you’ve worked towards. We are standing inside of the biggest example of a cautionary tale about hubris and I won’t bring you down with me.”

“Essek, look at me.”

Slowly, he turns his face to the other wizard. Caleb’s hand comes to Essek’s shoulder, his voice is urgent, insistent. “This is why we have friends waiting for us inside of our home. This is why I stayed with them when I should have run. This is how we had the courage to stand in your throne room risking our very lives. This is why we crossed into your homeland in the hope that a halfling chemist was still alive. This is why we pleaded with you for help. This is why we risked our good standing with you to fight for our Yasha back. This is why I pleaded with you to let us help you. This is why we are here now. Because  _ we _ choose our paths now.  _ We  _ do. Whatever it may look like, we do not wander aimlessly down the path of destruction - we charge down it purposefully in the barest of hopes of rescuing the ones we love who’ve been dragged too far down. They keep us good. They keep us in line. They keep us alive.”

Caleb’s hand slowly slides up to hold the side of Essek’s face. 

Essek’s eyes slide shut and tries to breathe through the tightness in his throat and chest. 

Caleb rests his forehead gently against Essek’s and whispers, “And when the time comes, you and I return the favor. Not to atone, because there is no atonement. Not for us. But there is staying out of the way so that the good people of this world can make a change and we keep them alive long enough for that to happen.”

They stay in the silence for a moment, breathing softly. Essek eventually nods against Caleb’s forehead. 

Caleb pulls away and Essek grabs his hand and looks at him with a multitude of words in his eyes but simply says, “Thank you.” 

Caleb nods, smiles, and pulls him into his home. Essek stumbles inside and his jaw drops as he slowly turns looking all around at the cats and the art and the - “Caleb! It’s amazing! How high does it go?”

“There are nine floors.” Caleb replies and pulls him to the center and they begin floating to the next floor. Essek looks around startled and Caleb grins mischievously. “I was inspired.”

Caleb walks him through the common spaces, reluctantly pulling him away from the library. They pause on the living quarters as he explains who lives on what floor and they head into the dining room where loud voices can be heard through the opening they float towards.

“I’ve made sure that there is food to your liking as well.” Caleb is saying as Essek stares in wonderment at the cats carrying food in and out. “Jester has us all eating rather sweet and I don’t know that you’d enjoy Yasha’s brand of food either so hopefully I’ve struck a balance between. Let me know if there’s something in particular you need.” 

Caleb pushes a still stunned Essek into a chair and takes a seat. The group exchanges hellos and welcomes again before continuing their conversations. Essek sits back in his chair and just observes the chaos around him while he eats. This has become his habit when meeting back up with this group after time apart. Observing the way they interact, who is quieter, who is more comfortable. Wondering what horrors they’ve seen beyond what he caught in his scrying. Pulling his eyes from the tension between Beau and Yasha definitively  _ not _ making eye contact with each other, his eyes drift back over to Jester. He’s seen her pull on her mask faster than even he can and she’s currently doing just that. He watches Fjord look at her with a worried expression and pick at his food before touching her shoulder and leaning over to whisper something. A genuine smile crosses her face and she shifts ever so slightly closer to him. Essek smiles. So it’s like that. 

Fjord’s concerned look when her attention is elsewhere confirms to Essek that something has happened to Jester specifically. Fjord is always his indicator of who in this group has had a hard time recently. Not a man of many words, but a solid presence for the ones he deems need it most at the time, Essek has learned to watch who Fjord is paying extra attention to during downtime to know who might need extra support. He twirls a glass in his hands, his mind coming up with scenario after scenario of what could have happened to Jester.

Dinner ends and they drift towards the library where they take up different positions on chairs and the floor and tables around the room. Dagon excuses himself to his room to relax. Essek hangs back waiting to see where a spot opens up and eventually settles in next to a fireplace. 

He clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “I do have someone I’d like everyone to meet. This is Bossk.”

They all look at him curiously. Essek summons Bossk who mrrrps and turns a circle in Essek’s lap before plopping down and purring. The ambient noise of the library is shattered by Jester and Veth’s squeals. They both rush over and sit on the floor talking sweetly to Bossk who is pointedly ignoring them. Essek tells him to go cuddle Jester and be cute. The cat sighs and flicks his tail in Essek’s face before hopping into Jester’s lap and stretching and sniffing at her. Fjord rolls his eyes, muttering something about damn fluffy cats and scooting farther away as subtly as possible.

Yasha has also moved closer and Bossk didn’t need any encouragement from Essek, he immediately zooms towards the gentle barbarian and happily settles in. Essek’s heart melts at the look of delight on Yasha’s face. He looks over at Caleb and Beau who both have incredibly soft looks on their faces. Beau shakes herself out of it when she catches Essek looking, sticks out her tongue at him and goes back to her notebooks and pinboard, eyes darting back over more than once. Caleb is looking at him however, and Essek’s not sure his currently fragile heart can’t take it. 

“What brought that about?” Caleb’s smug voice asks. “You were fairly adamant you didn’t need this spell.”

“I was lonely.” Essek says simply. 

The silence in the room stretches for a moment as the entire group takes in his statement.

Fjord clears his throat over by Caduceus. “We should probably talk about what we came to talk about.”

They relay everything they’ve discovered from Vokodo and his reign over Rumblecusp to the information they’ve gathered about Aeor, the Eyes of Nine, and they sort of trail off and look around the room and sheepishly inform him that they are carrying the dead body of a Cerberus Assembly member and are following her murderers across the continent. The same people who slaughtered his expedition. Led by the stranger wearing their friend’s body. Who want to somehow bring the city back from the astral sea.

Essek blinks, taking all of it in. 

Fjord pulls a crystal out of his bag for just a moment before slipping it back in. “We were able to snag one of the threshold crests and run here, but we don’t know if that will stop them or not.”

“We don’t really know who to trust with this. Or if anyone will believe us.” Jester pipes up from where she’s scritching Bossk’s ears.

Beau turns around from the board she’d been using to lay out their theory. “We didn’t even believe us when we started out. We were basically chasing a ghost story that has absolutely no record with anyone affiliated with the Cobalt Soul. Which seems fishy. But we can’t exactly march into either throne room and announce we might be facing the Calamity Round 2 and one of the members of the Cerberus Assembly was in on it and also might be dead. Your queen is barely holding back reigniting the war as it is, and our side will have us erased from existence before we finish talking.” 

Essek calls Bossk over to him and holds him close to his chest, slouching down in thought. “So your plan is to just face this alone? You don’t have anyone else to turn to?”

“We have you.” 

Essek smiles at Jester’s statement but turns to Beau. 

“I’m not nearly as powerful as my ego told me I was. Just surviving in this landscape has me struggling.” He shrugs. “I’m here whenever you need me, but facing down the consciousness of an ancient city from the age of arcanum isn’t necessarily going to be a fair fight even with me on your side.”

“What about Yussa?” Caduceus offers.

“And Allura!” Jester adds.

Caleb nods, “Yussa is looking into the Eyes of Nine so he’s already familiar. Allura may have access to historical documents or know someone in Vasselheim or Emon, maybe even Marquette, that may know more about everything going on.”

“I could send a letter to some researchers at the Conservatory but I don’t know that it would get any farther than your Cobalt Soul did.” Essek sighs. “You all always bring me the most fascinating problems. Why is it, everytime I see you, the world’s about to end?”

Essek stands and stretches letting Bossk wander over to Caleb and wind figure-eights between his legs. Caleb talks to him softly enough Essek can’t hear but Beau who is sitting nearby Caleb just rolls her eyes. 

“I need to go catch up with Marcel, make sure the camp is still standing and no other responsibilities remain open for the day. Thank you for your hospitality.” He bows slightly and sends Bossk over to Jester. “Jester could you walk me out? I have something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Jester scoops up Bossk and follows Essek out the door. “Your meeting with the followers of your god, how did that go?”

Jester laughs bitterly, “Oh well, that happened. See the Traveler didn’t really like having so many followers so we spent the whole time trying to figure out how to make them all follow someone else or whatever, you know? We decided on the Moonweaver but then on the night we were trying to convince everyone that the Traveler was the Moonweaver so they should all totally worship Her instead, um, She sent a super powerful champion of Hers down to scold the Traveler for messing in her domain and lying and stuff and acted like she was going to banish him back to the Feywild.” Her voice is a little shaky retelling it. “And I almost got dragged along but then it was all a lesson, by the Moonweaver, so I didn’t. And also Artie didn’t want me to get caught in it too and kicked me and Fjord off.”

Essek feels a tug of recognition. “Was there a volcano?”

Jester looks at him, “Yeah, how did you know that?”

They’ve reached the bottom floor now and Essek dimisses Bossk and tentatively reaches out to pull her into a hug that she returns. “I was watching it all go down but only from Fjord’s point of view as he was the one I was scrying on that day. It took everything in me to not go rushing to wherever you all were.”

Jester sniffles a little bit and pulls away, dabbing at her eyes and smiling. “Essek, you’re too sweet. We were fine. We always turn out fine.”

“And what about you, Jester? Do you turn out fine?” Essek wipes a tear that escaped. “I can’t help but notice something different about you. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I don’t deserve your confidence but I’m here to listen.”

Jester smiles a little too brightly. “Oh you noticed my cheekbones?” 

When Essek just keeps looking at her she drops the smile. “So the reason we know for sure what the Tomb Takers are up to is because we found this circle of statues on our hike and we couldn’t figure out what they did and Caleb said they had divination magic in them and we were joking around and imitating them and we saw it had a pillar in the center and we fought over who got to stand in the middle. I won so I stood on the pillar and then I couldn't move and the statues were asking if I would give to receive and I didn’t have a choice and so I asked what the Tomb Takers were trying to do and they gave me the most terrifying vision of them bringing the city back and then everything was cold and it felt like something was taken out of me and here I am. A body that is 5 years older but a mind that’s the same.” 

Her face crumples and Essek catches her again and just sways as she sobs, aghast at everything she’d been through recently. Through hiccuping breaths she continues, “I know it’s only 5 years and I shouldn’t be so upset about it but I look different now and people will see me different, and expect different things from me and its just, I didn’t have a chance to say ‘No, thanks’ or even offer anything in return, they just took it.” Essek just continues to hold her until she calms and then magics a cloth from a pocket dimension and offers it to her.

“I don’t have anything incredibly inspiring to say, Jester, other than it seems a terrible price to pay for information.”

She shrugs. "We needed it."

He tilts her head up with a gentle finger and waits until she looks at him. 

"I am speaking from experience, Jester. Information that comes at that high of a price may seem necessary at the time, but the cost only rises as time marches on." He sighs and grabs both her hands in his own. "You know your own limitations and I would never dream of telling you want to do, but please keep in mind that you are significantly more valuable and important than information."

Jester’s smile is a bit wobbly but she relaxes a bit. “I feel better now just saying it out loud. Everyone else is kinda acting like it didn’t happen. And when Fjord tries to talk to me about it, I don’t say much cause I don’t want to waste our time together with my problems.” She blushes and stammers. “That doesn’t mean anything!”

Essek laughs again, “Oh you two aren’t as subtle as you think you are. I definitely noticed. There’s a gravity between the two of you that is incredibly obvious to someone whose specialty is gravity.”

Swinging their joined hands around, she smiles while a joy that is so contagious, he can't help but smile back. "It's all so new, Essek. We've been, I don't know, at different places for so long and then too afraid to hope.” She smiles but then with a sparkle in her eyes, she pokes him in the chest with her tail.

"Can you keep a secret?" 

Heart clenching just a little, he nods and leans in. 

"He kissed me two nights ago!" Jester squeaks out and bounces on her toes just a little. 

Essek’s jaw drops and he helplessly bounces along with her before a smile splits across his face. "Jester, that's wonderful!"

Jester nods and looks into the distance. "The timing isn't the greatest, you know? But with everything going on, it's just. You want to grab every happiness you can, when you can. And if something happens to him that I can't fix, then at least we had that moment."

Essek squeezes her hands. "I am glad you have found happiness. You all have done so much to help this world, you deserve some good in return."

He turns serious again. “But Jester, you can’t not let him want to take care of you too. I’m not well versed in relationships  _ at all _ but I’m pretty sure you’re both supposed to be looking after the other one. If you think you should be helping carry his burdens and supporting him in troubled times, he better be thinking the same thing for you and here’s the thing: you've got to let him.”

Still blushing, Jester nods and looks over his shoulder. Essek turns and sees Fjord floating down the center of the tower looking around and smiling and waving when he sees them. Essek leans over to whisper, “He’s a good man, let him be there for you as much as you are there for everyone. And if he won’t do that, kick him to me and there won’t be enough left of him for his goddess to piece together.” He stands up straight, winks at Jester, and shakes a confused Fjord’s hand. “I was just heading out, thank you for that clarification, Jester, your insight is valuable.” 

“Essek!” He stops and looks over his shoulder at her where Fjord has joined her, arm around her shoulders. “It is really good to see you. No matter the circumstances, it’s good to see a friendly face.”

Essek nods, walks out the door and into his tent just as Marcel is walking in. “Ah! Sir! I walked in a bit ago and there was no one here.”

Essek motions to the energy wavering behind him, “We needed more room. Marcel, what books did you bring with you? We have some research to do.”

Essek and Marcel spend the next few hours pouring over the history books they’d both brought with them. Jost pokes his head in at one point to bring dinner and shakes his head. The two mages barely notice his presence until he literally places the plate of food on the book Essek is reading. 

“Apologies, Shadowhand. Cook wanted to make sure you ate. Where are the Mighty Nein, please tell me they aren’t running amok in my camp, heroes of the dynasty or not there’s an order to things.”

Essek waves vaguely at the softly glowing energy near his desk. “They bring their own lodgings.” He moves the plate off the book and flips the page.

Jost stares and tries to work out what exactly  _ that  _ was supposed to mean before turning to the problem at head. "Shadowhand, you must eat!" Jost says insistently. "Marcel, you too. Eat! While the food is still. Well. Vaguely warm." 

Marcel reaches blindly at their plate and dunks his hand in the bowl of soup and pulls it out with a befuddled expression on his face and looks around at the change in the shadows of the room and blinking owlishly sets the book aside.

Satisfied that at least one of them was returned to the land of the alert, Jost nods and slips out of the tent shaking his head. Marcel stretches and uses a quick cantrip to reheat the food and deftly slips the book out of Essek’s hands and shoves the food in its place when Essek protests and reaches for the book again. When he gets a handful of bread instead, he stares at Marcel, unamused.

Marcel shrugs and hands him his bowl of soup. 

They eat in a comfortable silence and Essek’s mind fully returns to the present and he eventually realizes how late it has become.

“Marcel, go and get your rest, we’ll pick this up tomorrow, thank you for your help.”

Marcel looks around at the stacks of books in the tent. “Are you sure? I can-”

Essek presses their coat into their hands. “Go. Sleep. Work to do tomorrow.”

Yawning, Marcel nods and slips the coat on and waves before leaving the tent. Essek wraps a blanket tighter around himself and pokes his head out to see Marcel getting into his own tent alright before summoning Bossk for their nighttime routine. Alarm set, Essek tears another hunk of bread and nibbles at it while scanning over what Marcel was reading before moving back over to his desk and picking up where he left off.

Caleb walks through the tower, making sure everyone has settled in and hasn’t fallen asleep in the library again when he realizes that Essek never returned. Brow furrowed, he runs through their conversation from before and realizes that by pointing upward and simply saying ‘Our rooms are on the next floor’ would easily be misinterpreted to just mean his and Veth’s. He quickly floats all the way down and quietly pokes his head out of the doorframe and smiles softly. 

Essek has passed out at his desk, cup of something long-cooled in one hand, head resting in a book, and a pen in the other hand. 

“Essek?”

Essek startles upright and looks around. Caleb can’t hold back a laugh at the other man’s sleep-mussed hair and the ink stain on his cheekbone. “You didn’t come back.”

Essek’s eyes narrow in question. “I didn’t, it’s not,” he stammers trying to smooth his hair down. “I didn’t think there was a place for me.”

Caleb holds out a hand. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> How unfortunate that Scry doesn't cross planes or Essek might have seen their map and known what A2 was. On the other hand, he might have accidentally eavesdropped on a rather tender moment that happened directly after Jester's last scry. 
> 
> Essek deserves a fluffy familiar and I will die on that hill
> 
> Adventuring!Essek is a wonderful concept that I need more of
> 
> Essek’s line about tearing down and setting up a workspace quickly was Definitely Not inspired by my own 2020 WFH experience /s


End file.
